


Bartenders and Baristas

by xPurgatoryx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2564006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xPurgatoryx/pseuds/xPurgatoryx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right on Main Street, nestled between a vacant historical building and a thrift shop lies Manny's, A locally owned coffee/bookstore. The quiet life was the perfect fit for mild Castiel. However, when the old vacant building next door was bought by a rowdy bar-owner named Winchester and his family, the well-mannered Castiel would quickly come out of his shell, along with several of his darkest secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Quiet Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First fanfic, friends, I hope you all like! Follow me on tumblr for updates and shit: PurgatoryLovenest  
> Thank you all so much for the read, comments/advice/ideas are welcome! 
> 
> -Ems x

The only reason Manny's Coffee Shop was open at three-in-the-fucking-morning was because of the bar next door, and the only reason Castiel was working this shift, was because he was a fucking idiot.  
 _"The drunkards need their coffee before they go home to their unsuspecting families."_ Manny would tell Castiel, his dark eyes lit up with any opportunity to make a quick buck. Castiel would often just nod, shrugging off the reasoning behind staying open for three, maybe if we’re lucky, four drunks all in the hopes of maybe making fifteen extra dollars. Castiel didn’t mind though, it was a job, and being the only one to work the redeye hours came with a few perks: control of the music, free coffee, and if it was slow (almost always) he was allowed to sit on the few couches in the shop and read. 

The bar next door wasn’t even a problem until recently. Up until about two days ago, the building was vacant. A hollowed out shell of a once bookstore (back in the 1920’s, of course). Parts of Castiel had wished it would be re-imagined, and restored as a sort of replica of the old bookstore. However, his hopes that the new buyers, the Winchesters, restoring the precious building was shot down the night they moved in. Now, instead of the quiet nights with no noise other than the music in the shop and the occasional train in the distance, under Castiel’s favorite big band tunes there was a low hum of rock music generating from the 80’s themselves. And that little hum wouldn’t even be that big of a deal if it wasn’t complemented by the occasional rough growl of, what Cas expected to be the owner, kicking out people who would get a little too booze happy.

The solution to Castiel’s little neighbor problem was simple for him. Just turn up the jazz a tad more, and go back to the times where Winchester’s Brewing Company wasn’t even a thing. Most of this time his plan would work, he’d still hear the occasional crash of a beer bottle on the street and the heated arguments of lovers gone wild, but for the most part, Castiel was able to distract himself long enough to eventually not notice. The night/wee morning hours of August 11th was different, though. It was coming up on two in the morning, the shop had a few customers but nothing too crazy. It was 2:00 am on the dot when Castiel heard the t-rex of a growl coming from his stomach. Throughout the night he snuck a few pastries from the dessert case, but even four loaves of lemon pound bread wasn’t enough to put this beast back to sleep. At 2:03, Castiel decided to take a smoke break, he’d rather have the security cameras show him exiting the building for five minutes rather than him eating half of the next day’s profit. 

The warm August air in the town of Salem, Massachusetts surrounded Cas as soon as he stepped foot from the building, he sat under the awning on one of the two benches underneath it exclusively for customers. Customers that didn’t exist at this time of night. Castiel didn’t even have a chance to enjoy his newly lit menthol before a new smell caressed his nostrils, one that smelled far more tasty than the mint infused tobacco hanging from his mouth. He told himself he wouldn’t. He had told himself he wouldn’t stoop to the level of those in the bar next to him. 

But those burgers smelt so damn good.

Castiel groaned, stubbing out the end of his smoke on the concrete beneath him before sticking it behind his ear and standing up. Cas looked down at his outfit, how did people even dress to go to these things anyway? He shrugged to himself and continued on over to Winchester’s, each step he took the faint tune of hair metal growing louder. It wasn’t until Castiel actually took hold of the bar’s door handle that he began regretting his little adventure over here. Upon opening the old creaking door, Castiel was welcomed into a room that, to him, seemed like a circus. There were nearly twenty people jam packed into this building, all hooting and hollering at each other like a pack of wild animals. He wondered why the music was the only thing that flooded over to the shop from this place.

It was a task, getting from the door to the bar, not only was the table arrangements shit, but the people must have thought Castiel was a new bar-going friend, the amount of arms flung around him was enough to make even the most popular of people uncomfortable. Castiel had no issues sliding out of the unwanted company’s arms as he made his final few steps to the bar and the bartenders one tall with shaggy hair, the other short(er) with a cocky expression across his face.

“Never been in a bar before, eh?” he asked. Castiel immediately recognized the voice as the man who constantly was shouting at those he kicked out. He was handsome, not the face Castiel would have matched up with the voice he heard the past few nights. The tender had dark brown hair and an emerald green eye color that complimented each other well. He was in his early to mid-twenties, much like Castiel, and had an Earthy tone that made the man seem warm and welcoming. Cas finally knew why they already had regulars after only two days in business.

“I just came in for a burger.” Castiel spoke back, his hands digging into his front pockets.

“Lucky for you, my man, we have the best burgers in town.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It was about then when the longer haired bartender spoke up:

“No… Actually he has no idea. We just moved here from out of state. Dean knows nothing of this place, or of what food places around here are the best. He’s just got his head so far up his ass he only sees his “secret recipe” as the best. In reality it’s just a bit of barbecu--”

“Al-ri-hight Sammy! That is enough don’t you think?” Dean chimed back in, shooing his brother back to work with a nod of his head. “So, one burger and fries, right? Anything else, Sugar?” Dean asked, tapping his hands against the wood to the beat of the song coming from the old jukebox in the corner.

“No, I think that’s about it… Could you uh-- Hurry up? I’m not really supposed to leave work unattended,” Castiel voiced up, tapping his own beat against the wood with his thumbs.

“One patty with fries, Jo!” Dean shouted to the staff in the small kitchen before turning his gaze back onto Castiel. “--What? Not staying for a round?” 

Castiel shook his head, and Dean shrugged. 

“Suit yourself, kid, I can guarantee you’d have more fun here than your work, though.” Dean continued to tap away on the bar, bobbing his head now along with the tapping as he watched the crew work up a burger and fries. Dean wrapped the burger carefully in some paper and loaded a small brown paper bag up with the burger and fries, he turned to Castiel and handed him the bag soaked with grease. 

“Come again soon, my man.” Castiel nodded towards the other before turning back the way he came.

It was 2:36 am when Castiel returned to his comfy post of jazz music and the smell of espresso. It was 2:37 am when he came to the conclusion that he was certain of two things.

1.) This was by far the best burger in town  
2.) He was never stepping foot in that madhouse again.


	2. Taking Tips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not feeling the best on this chapter, hope it isn't shitty~ You all enjoy! Comments/suggestions are super welcomed!

Three days went by before Castiel saw Dean Winchester again. This time it was during his last few hours working third shift. Castiel was by himself (like most nights), as he sat on the couch closest to the front store window, a copy of the local newspaper in his right hand, folded over to give a steadiness to the flimsy paper. A ballpoint pen hung from the corner of his mouth. When the doorbell rung, Castiel looked up quickly, reminding himself that this was a place of work, and mucking around with the daily crossword puzzle instead of standing at the counter wasn’t considered work.

“Oh hey hey Mr. Burger Guy.” Dean voiced as he swaggered in, wearing a deep green shirt and leather jacket. Castiel noticed that now that Dean was out from behind the bar how fit he actually was. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the other for too long. Dean’s naturally superior complex didn’t need anymore boosting. Castiel sucked in his lower lip, gnawing on the flesh.

“Are you really going to call me that?” He asked, standing up from his warm spot on the couch to assist the new customer. Castiel nodded towards the counter. Dean shrugged, following Castiel over to the register.

“Well, you never gave me your name, Tommy Two-Shoes…” Dean dug his hand into the tip jar beside the cash register, pulling out the two dollars Castiel managed to earn tonight, despite the rush of six truckers waltzing in for a ‘quick waker-upper’. “Don’t make too many tips here, huh?”

Castiel snatched the bills out of Dean’s bulky hands, giving him an icy glare that matched the hue of his eyes.

“I work from eleven to five, the only business that comes in here is yours.” Castiel set the money back in the jar “--And that is only the sensible drunks that know to get some coffee in them before heading back home.”

“And they don’t tip you?” Dean scoffed, shaking his head a bit. “I’ll have to teach ‘em a little lesson on manners then, huh?”

Dean’s head tilted up slightly, his eyes moving from Castiel, to the board just above his head. Castiel studied Dean’s lips as he wasn’t looking, watching as the man before him mouthed the various versions of espresso and coffee to himself. Cas could tell Dean wasn’t more than just a straight black kind of guy when it came to coffee. 

“Never been to a coffee-shop before, hmm?” The moment it left his mouth Castiel realised how fucking rude he sounded. It’s not like Dean remembered the first words he said to Castiel anyway. “--Sorry, that was… Unlike me, it was the fir--”

“--First words I said to you, I know.” Dean finished, his eyes still locked on the board overhead. Still, he broke from his gaze to offer Castiel a cheeky smile. “Uh-- I think I’ll just have a caramel mack-ee-ato… Whatever that is.” He finally looked back down into Castiel’s eyes, his grin still in place.  
“Caramel macchiato?” Cas corrected, a brow lifted in confusion.

“Yeah, yeah-- That.” The freckled man on the opposite end of the counter dug into his back pocket, pulling out an old, badly bruised, wallet. “-- And the sugeriest thing for Sammy. He’ll like whatever those teenage girls like.”

“Okay?-- So a Caramel macchiato and a… White chocolate mocha?”

“Sure,” Dean nodded with an approving look on his face.

“It’ll be six-dollars and fourty-two cents.”

Castiel finished ringing Dean up before turning to the espresso machine, taking two portafilters and placing them under the bean-grinder. There was an awkward moment of silence as Cas packed the ground up beans and plugged the filters into the espresso machine, and an even more awkward silence as he picked up the cups and caught glance of Dean watching him intently. He turned his back back towards Dean, pumping syrups into the two separate coffee cups.

“So, are you and Sammy brothers?” Castiel asked, breaking the white noise.

“Sam, and yeah.” Dean corrected him, his hands now touching a piece of artwork hanging on the wall behind him. 

“Sorry… It’s just you called hi--”

“Called him Sammy, I know… He prefers Sam now that he’s a big old man.” Dean explained, his voice going rougher than it already was as he spoke the last few words in his sentence. Castiel set down the milk out of the steamer, turning around to look at Dean once more.

“Do you always interrupt people who are trying to have a conversation with you?” 

Dean took his hand off the painting, stepping back over to the counter to lean over it. His green eyes fell to the floor then back up, checking Castiel out. Dean Winchester clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue as another grin creeped and crawled it’s way back to the corners of his mouth, a toothy grin well on its way.

“You always talk to paying customers like that?” Dean countered, his charming smile making it hard for Castiel to think.

“Sorry…” Castiel shrunk back, returning to his work. Now, even though he wasn’t looking directly at Dean, he could still feel his gaze on him, tensing up when he felt Dean right behind him.

“Oh, don’t be sorry Two-Shoes I li--”

“It’s Cas… Or Castiel…”

Dean nodded, running his tongue across his teeth. Holding onto the bar with both hands and leaning back as if to test gravity or to see if the bar could actually hold up with his weight pulling it down. “--Alright, Castiel, don’t be sorry. I like a little sass in my life,” Castiel could almost feel the cheeky grin on him, crawling up his shoulders and biting his ear in a desperate act for attention. Suddenly it was cold, Castiel could feel goosebumps rising on his pale skin. He tried hiding his arms behind his torso, hoping Dean wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing the result of Castiel’s imagination going wild. Cas took the shots and steamed milk and added it to the drinks, completing the order with a “Manny’s Coffee-Shop” sleeve and lid. Castiel set the two cups on the bar, smiling up at Dean, hoping his fake confidence would seem normal.

“--Don’t worry, it’s cute.” And there it was again, a compliment followed by a ridiculously attractive smile Cas tried not to blush at. “Anyway, thank for the coffee Cas. It’s nice to know you’re here… Y’know, the shop. Us drunks need as much as we can get.” Dean turned slightly, walking back towards the door, but not fully leaving without a nod of his head and a wink of his twinkling eyes. As the door clicked shut; Castiel cursed himself for being so damn awkward, looking back down at his tips, the two dollars now one bill. One twenty dollar bill.

Castiel, now free from company, finally let out the blush he had held in.


	3. Subtle Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas get's brave, and Dean jumps in on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huehuehue I am actually pleased with this one. Next chapter will be their date~ I promise you it'll be a hell of a lot longer too! I hope you all enjoy! Please leave comments/suggestions! <3

Castiel grew brave over the past month, every now and then when Dean (and occasionally Sam) would come in Cas would step more and more out of his comfort zone. No longer just the “shy guy” bartender, Castiel found himself growing to be close friends with Sam and Dean. And when Sam wasn’t around, a bit closer with Dean. It was nothing major, a little nudge here, Dean giving a playful wink there. Castiel even worked up enough nerve to spell out “call me” in caramel on the foam of Dean’s, now usual, caramel macchiato; slipping Dean’s receipt to him with his personal cell number written in purple underneath the total. -- No, nothing major, but enough to light a small candle-like spark in Cas, and if he was lucky, maybe in Dean.

Dean was enjoying his time with Cas when he and Sam would let Jo hold down the fort as they went next door for a cup of coffee. He, Sam, and Cas would spend about an hour just talking and getting to know each other. For example, Castiel’s favourite color was yellow, figures, it suited him more than leather and hard rock suited Dean. Oh! And that baby brother Sammy once tried sucking on a girl’s toes to be kinky… Weirdo. Most importantly, though, Dean found out about himself, and how he might have a thing for guys who make a good cup of coffee. 

Even though Dean enjoyed the times were all three hung out, he enjoyed the solo time he had with Cas more. When he first met Cas he thought he would be able to pull him out of his shell more, and he was right. The both of them made small gestures at the other, hinting something more than just friends every once in a while. Dean loved making Cas blush, the different tints of red his face turned when Dean complimented him was one of the most perfect colors he had ever seen. He probably didn’t even notice his own face changing shades. And, when Castiel finally made a move with a little bit of caramel and a coy grin, Dean jumped quickly on the offer.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when The Winchester’s Brewing Company hit a slow spot. Either the customers that were there were passed out drunk, flopped over the tables like a discarded jacket, or were leaving to go home to their families. Dean pulled out his old flip phone from his back pocket, humming a tune as he scrolled through his contacts.

“Dude, you need a new phone,” Sam commented, wiping down the bar from across Dean. “Going to text Cas?” He asked, leaning over the bar slightly to try and take a peek at the screen.

“Hey, fuck you, my phone is perfectly fine,” Dean replied, typing away on his T9 set keypad. “--And I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Sam.”

“Come on, admit it Dean, you like him.--” Dean could almost feel Sam’s giddy smirk on his skin. “--You spend more time over there than you do in your own bar... And you love alcohol.”

“Can it, Sammy, I’m not talking to you about this,”

“Fine, be that way.” Sam went back to scrubbing the water rings out of the wood. “Tell him I said ‘hi’ though, yeah?”

“Alright.”

“Ha! I knew it!”

Dean looked up, a dead glare in his eyes as he knocked over a passed out customer’s beer bottle. “Clean it up.” Sam laughed and did as he was told. 

NEW MESSAGE - SEND TO: Sassy Cassy

[3:37 AM | SENT] : Hey Cas, how’s business going over there?  
[3:38 AM | RECEIVED] : Oh, hello Dean.  
[3:38 AM | RECEIVED] : Business is good… Hey, did you send over that older guy with one eye? He asked me how I got such a find ass.  
[3:40 AM | SENT] No way. Did he actually do it?! LOL.  
[3:40 AM | SENT] I mean, it’s an honest question…  
[3:40 AM | RECEIVED] : Are you seriously asking about my ass?  
[3:43 AM | SENT] : Not me, pirate guy, remember? lol.  
[3:45 AM | RECEIVED] : Anyway… Are you still coming for your macchiato before I leave?  
[3:45 AM | SENT] : Actually I was going to see if you wanted to do something when you get off. 4, right?

Dean lifted his eyes from his phone, looking over at Sam, now handing out waters to the few drunkards who were still conscious. 

“Hey Sammy, feel like doing be a favour tonight?” Dean asked, tossing sam a bag of bar peanuts to pass out with the water. Sam looked up, his usual annoying smirk painted across his face. 

“Going out with Cas?”

“How did you know?”

“I told you, Dean, you grin like an idiot when you talk to him. Go ahead, Jo and I can take care of these guys.”

Dean smiled, nodding his head at Sam in thanks. His attention turned back to his phone.

[3:49 AM | RECEIVED ] : Yeah, I do… See you then. :)

He flipped his phone down, and slid it back into his back pocket.


End file.
